


Tea With The Devil

by BurningUpASunJustToSayHello



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Its just Luci and Trixie hanging out, Light Angst, Trixie and Lucifer play the piano, that's all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello/pseuds/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer gets roped into babysitting Trixie while Chloe goes to court. Tea, cake, and pianos may or may not have gotten involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea With The Devil

When Lucifer strode through the Detective's door he wasn’t expecting the mayhem that lurked behind it. Like always Lucifer slipped soundlessly past the door...and smack into the Detective. She instantly turned, hands raised. When she realized who it was, her stance loosened into one of annoyance. If she hadn’t recognized him in time Lucifer thought she might have punched him. Honestly, even if he hadn’t meant it, maybe he should intentionally knock into her more. After all it got him some well deserved attention from the woman. 

“What the hell! Lucifer, you need to stop breaking into my house!” she demanded. Lucifer could always tell when something was out of sorts for the Detective, it was easy to spot. She was so tightly wound that one little thing could push her over the edge. 

Lucifer grinned brightly as the Detective’s anger boiled up through her words. He couldn’t put his finger on why he liked riling her up. An easy answer could have been that it turned Lucifer on to see the Detective out of her comfort zone but it was more than that. It brought him a newfound pleasure that demanded to be achieved over and over again. So he kept pushing her out of said comfort zone. 

Just as he mentally prepared for her usual speech about “breaking into” her house she grabbed his arm in a steel grip. Lucifer pasted on a mocking smile and waited for the Detective to throw him out. Instead of kicking him out like Lucifer expected, the Detective drug him into the kitchen. 

“Detective I never knew you were a fan of--” his taunt was cut off as Chloe swung around to face him and clapped a hand over his mouth. Lucifer would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think about licking it. 

“No I need you to listen to what I’m telling you,” she whispered fiercely. Oh yes, he thought, something has seriously pissed her off this time. “Dan won’t answer his phone and Trixie’s babysitter is sick with the flu. I have to go to court and I need you to watch Trixie for a few hours.” She removed her hand to let him answer. 

Panic and disdain flooded Lucifer’s veins. While he had many talents, watching children was not one of them. Hell, on occasion he couldn’t watch himself. So much so that Maze considered herself his keeper. It wasn’t that he was incapable of babysitting, Lucifer just hated children. He didn’t understand them and they couldn’t comprehend half of the things he said anyways. And they were always sticky. All of them; all of the time. It shouldn’t seem physically possible yet, it was. Lucifer concluded long ago that children were his father’s prototype demons. 

When he drew himself out of his thoughts, the Detective was glaring. He fiddled with his sport jacket buttons. 

“Why can’t you get Detective Douche to do this; it is his child too, is it not?” He whined. That earned him a vicious look from the woman. The Detective let out a short breath. “I just told you, he won’t answer my calls or my texts.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth to protest but was brought to a halt when she shoved a finger in front of his lips. 

“End of argument,” she concluded, “Do you think I want to leave my seven year old home with you? You can’t even take care of yourself! Your bartender is basically your mother duck!” 

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “Maze is not my mother duck.” he pouted. Seeing the losing battle blooming he gave in. “Fine, I’ll take care of your child. No promises that it will be a decent job though.” 

Chloe released a pent up breath, the tension visibly sinking out of her. She pulled away from him and began fluttering around the kitchen, going over basic household rules to keep her daughter in check. Lucifer never understood those kinds of ticks humans had. They’re nervous jitters that caused so many little movements were a mystery. What kind of comfort did a small continuous movement bring? It certainly didn’t bring the same relief that sex did for him. Maybe the Detective needed to get laid and then she’d finally unravel. Lucifer hoped for the love of Hell and its inhabitants that said lay wasn’t her ex; that man couldn’t satisfy a rabbit. 

In the back of his mind he heard the Detective call for the child. His vision refocused as the small monster ran into the room. As her eyes drifted over from the Detective to him, a smile spread across her face. Immediately he braced himself and gave a small sound of disgust as she crashed into him. She wrapped him in a bone crushing embrace and refused to let go. 

“Trix, Lucifer is going to take care of you while I’m gone, okay?” the Detective confirmed. Beatrice’s face brightened with every word her mother said. Lucifer decided if he had to call the child by it’s name it wasn’t going to be a bloody hooker’s name. Children and hookers certainly didn’t belong together so he figured he would address her by her full name for his own sanity. 

“Really?” she gasped. Her smile grew and Lucifer’s heart plummeted into his shoes. He was so utterly fucked. 

The Detective gave an approving sound and rushed towards the door. 

“I really gotta go Trix, I love you,” the Detective pointed an accusing finger at the two of them, “stay out of trouble and you,” her gaze shifted to Lucifer, “be good.” 

And with that she shut the door leaving Lucifer alone with Beatrice. He glanced down at her and sighed. He was too sober for this. Although, the Detective probably wouldn’t approve of him getting hammered while her offspring was under his care. But tea. Tea he decided was what he needed. He began to move and stopped when he remembered the small human clinging to his waist. 

“Beatrice you need to let go so I can move,” he said as gently as he could. 

Reluctantly, she pulled away from him with a pout. Lucifer hoped she wouldn’t cry. It was all over if she started crying. He couldn’t even comfort a crying adult, let alone a child. Lucifer began pattering around the Detective’s kitchen in search of a kettle and a few tea cups. In the uncomfortable silence he threw a look back at Beatrice, who followed him like a shadow. 

“Do you like tea? I’m making some if you would like any.” he trailed off as he put the kettle on. 

“I’ve never had tea,” she answered. 

Horror shot through Lucifer. He whirled around on his heel and knelled down in front of her. 

“Never?” 

She shook her head. 

“Well I can fix that,” he said with a grin. 

She gave him a toothy smile back. “Can I have cake too?” 

Lucifer chuckled, he couldn’t help himself. Children’s needs were weirdly simple. He may not like them and they may not be easy to take care of but what they wanted was so simple. They weren't like adults whose desires were something un-achievable like endless amounts of fame. No, the child wanted cake. 

“Yes, you can have cake.” he finally got out. 

Beatrice’s smile broadened. He stood and pawed through the Detective’s cabinets for tea cups. Luckily he uncovered two pristine white cups in the first cabinet he opened. Then he focused on her selection of teas. Boring was the only word that came to mind. Earl Gray and chamomile were his only options. The kettle whistled and Lucifer returned his attention to the water. 

“Why does your mother have such bad taste in teas?” he mussed to Beatrice. He turned to face her. “These are so boring!” 

Beatrice shrugged. “Why is it boring? It’s just a drink,” she mussed back. 

“It’s more than a drink.” he replied, scandalized. 

Lucifer dug around in his pocket hopefully. There was always tea on his person. To him they were like condoms, it didn’t matter the occasion, you would always need them at some point. Lucifer pushed past his car keys and, what do you know-- condoms, to the tea bags in the bottom of his pants pocket. 

“I’m not feeding you boring tea, it would be a crisis. Does tuscan herbal lemon tea sound decent?” He asked the girl. 

“It depends do I still get cake?” 

Lucifer pulled the bags from their hiding spot. “Yes.” 

Lucifer poured the scalding water into the cups and left the bags to steep. His eyes drifted around for the bloody cake the child kept nagging him about. It wasn’t on the first two countertops he passed over and it wasn’t on the island either. There was fruit, coffee and...wait what was that? Out of the corner of his eye he caught it and smirked. A half-eaten chocolate cake sat hiding in the corner of the counter. Devil’s food cake, at least the Detective had some sense of humor. He sliced a generous piece and handed the plate to her outstretched hand. 

“Ah ah, take it to the table darling,” he muttered turning back to the teacups. 

On his way over to the table he searched the Detective’s fridge for cream. He was dismayed to find the only thing that resembled cream was milk. Ugh what heathens! Lucifer swept over to the table with the tea and the milk tucked in the crook of his arm. 

“Your mother must live like a caveman, no cream! What kind of person doesn’t own cream?” Lucifer complained dumping the contents in his arms onto the table. Beatrice sat in the chair across from with an intelligent stare. She watched him as he poured milk into each cup and extend the invitation for her to take one. 

“Lucifer, do you talk Dad much?” she asked him as she played with her spoon. 

Lucifer blinked, unsure that he had heard her correctly. “Pardon?” 

“Do you talk to my dad? I don’t get to see him as much anymore. I know him and Mommy fight a lot.” Beatrice replied, her voice losing luster. 

Unsure of how to answer such a heavy question, Lucifer sat dumbfounded. He hastily took a sip of tea. It seared his tongue. 

“I...don’t talk to your father very often,” he danced around the question. He knew the Detective and Detective Douche weren't on the best of terms but he didn’t exactly know how bad it was. The thought of their child being neglected over their petty feud rubbed him the wrong way. His relationship with his father was never the healthiest, he would admit to that. He could sympathize with the feeling of absent fathers. It wasn’t for them to be taking it out on Beatrice. Lucifer knew they probably didn’t mean it but that didn’t fix the problem. 

“I’m certain he cares deeply about you, Beatrice,” he added quietly. Beatrice accepted his answer halfheartedly and picked at her cake. 

“Try your tea, darling,” Lucifer urged. 

She shot him a questioning look but took a timid sip anyways. Beatrice’s face contorted. Her nose scrunched in a way painfully like the Detective’s did. She set her cup down with a grimace. Lucifer smirked and dumped another load of milk into her tea cup, hoping that would make it a little better for her. 

“Beatrice, do you feel ignored?” he questioned. 

She didn’t meet his gaze as she took another polite sip of tea. “...Sometimes. I like you though.” 

That stopped Lucifer mid-sip. He swallowed slowly. “Oh?” 

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Duh. You take care of me and Mom. When she’s working I know you’re there for her. Dad can’t do that anymore because him and her aren’t talking. They said something about divorce a little while ago.” 

Lucifer, unsure of how to answer, took a swig of his tea. He wished it was whiskey instead. Bloody children were so bloody innocent. He had all but ignored Beatrice and yet in her mind gave her more attention than her parents. It wasn’t fair to her. 

They sat in heavy silence for a few seconds. 

“Do you want some?” Beatrice offered Lucifer her plate. 

And then they were back to calm tides. Lucifer politely declined and finished off the last of his tea. 

“What did you think of the tea, Beatrice?” Lucifer pressed. 

She made another face and shook her head, ponytail flaring out behind her. Lucifer scoffed in disbelief. One did not simply hate tea, it just wasn’t done. 

He harrumphed and rolled his eyes. He knew it would be childish to make a snide remark so instead he cleared the table of their dishes. 

“Mommy said you play piano.” a voice called after him. His heart pounded. The Detective had never been fond of Lucifer, why would she tell her child that unimportant detail? The dishes clattering into the sink brought him back to Earth. He flicked on the water to wash them off. 

“I do,” he finally responded. 

Beatrice leaped from her chair and snatched his hand in hers. He all but shut off the water before she began pulling Lucifer towards a hallway. 

“We have a piano, can you teach me!” she chattered excitedly. Lucifer’s head swam with the new influx of information. He barely registered their tromps through the halls. He wasn’t even what happened. He merely told the child that he could play the piano. Beatrice had so much kindness to give and somehow she had chosen to give it to him. Him the Devil. Lucifer couldn’t wrap his head around it. Much like her mother, Beatrice was a mystery waiting to be discovered. 

Beatrice lead Lucifer to a well lit backroom. What once might have been a spare bedroom was remodeled into a music room. A used piano sat patiently in the corner of the room next to a pair of armchairs. The curtains were flung open to let in the warm afternoon light. The room was well loved, Lucifer could see that much. 

Beatrice drug him over to the worn bench and sat him down. She crawled up next to him. Lucifer may not know how to take care of children but he did know how to play the piano. He gently lifted the lid. 

 

“Right, do you read music?” he asked, distracted by the well kept keys that lay underneath. He spread his fingers on to the familiar starting keys, his thumbs toying with C and G. 

“Nope. Is it hard?” Beatrice scooted closer. 

Lucifer shook his head and moved to thumb through the music already on the stand. In search of a simple piece, he shuffled past the compositions one would usually have with a piano, Bach and Beethoven, and towards the interesting music. In the back of the stack lay Scarborough Fair. His fingers itched as they struggled to recall the rhythm. It was a song long forgotten in his mind, lost to the hands of time. He hadn’t played it in such a long time and his fingers longed to tickle the keys with its melody once again. 

Lucifer tugged the piece to the front of the pile. “This first note here,” he tapped the yellowed paper, “Is a D.” Lucifer pushed down the D key with his index finger. He glanced over at Beatrice, who was enticed. He knew she could never learn way over in the other octave. There was only one other option and if this didn’t kill his newly mortal self, nothing would. Releasing a heavy sigh Lucifer pulled the girl into his lap. 

“Better?” he grumbled. Now he officially knew hell was empty. He was completely lost to her. 

“Yep, thanks!” Beatrice chirped happily. 

Carefully Lucifer guided her fingers to loosely resemble what his had looked like moments ago and then laid his above them. “Is the next one an E?” she asked. 

Lucifer peered over her head at the music. “No it’s an F.” he explained after her silence remained, “The notes don’t go in order like you would think. The note names are a little out of order. Think of it this way, F.A.C.E. makes up the notes on the spaces and the line notes are remembered by Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. Like this,” Lucifer gestured to an A, “What is this?” 

She shifted in his lap to get a better look. “Well if it’s a space note then…” she paused calculating, “An A?” 

“Correct. So if your right thumb is on the C key, what finger is the A?” 

Beatrice timidly pressed down her middle finger. An ominous sound slipped from the instrument and she flinched into his chest. 

“Beatrice that was right,” he breathed in awe. He’d never seen a child catch on as quickly as she was. It amazed him what humans could be capable of; the fact that they could coax such a marvelous sound out of a jumble of ivory and wood stunned him. Occasionally, it floored him that he was able to. “Really? Cool!” She played D and F and then A. “Was that right?” asked excitedly. 

“Mhm,” Lucifer hummed. He echoed the rhythm that she had just played. Then he finished out the line. Beatrice giggled and attempted to copy his motions, the song coming out in a string of wrong notes. Lucifer didn’t understand Beatrice. She was amused by the smallest things and anything and everything that pertained to him. Her innocence outshined her fear, if the child had any. The only comparable feeling was the unconditional love his father showered him in before he was cast out. 

For the duration of the afternoon, Beatrice and Lucifer sat at the piano playing and replaying line after line until the tune was semi-recognizable. The child still didn’t know all of the notes, she was always caught up on G’s, however she pecked out the song well enough. She grasped the concept of the first half of the song well enough, which was incredible to him. Beatrice had retained her shortened music training surprisingly well. Playing quickly still made her timid and the sharps were uncomfortable for her small hands but time would fix that. 

“There are words to this you know,” Lucifer muttered offhandedly. 

“Do you know them?” Beatrice inquired and stopped playing. 

“I do.” 

“If I play will you sing them?” 

“Indeed.” 

She played the first note hesitantly and Lucifer willed his mind to remember the bittersweet words. He began shakily. 

“Are you going to Scarborough fair: parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there. She was once a true love of mine.” 

*~*  
Chloe stepped through her door expecting the worst. She worried about Trixie all throughout the trial and even thought about calling the house to make sure everything was alright. 

She’d thankfully resisted that urge. Although she wasn’t beyond thinking that Lucifer would somehow screw this up. There was a possibility he could burn the house down or that they could somehow get swept up in a flash flood. 

With all of that in mind Chloe unlocked her door under the assumption that one of them would be killed or worse. Instead she was greeted with music. Tenor vocals smoothed over shaky piano notes to create a soft ballad. 

“Between the salt water and the sea strand, then she’ll be a true love of mine…” the voice, followed by the piano, rang through the empty house. 

They worked together in an unsteady rhythm that somehow complemented the other. Chloe stood dumbfounded. Were they really in the music room? There wasn’t any possible way that Lucifer could have actually managed Trixie with a secondhand piano. 

Chloe unloaded her things in a hurry and walked towards the backroom. What welcomed her made her blink in confusion. 

Trixie sat primly in Lucifer’s lap, carefully fingering out a coarse melody on the ivory keys. Lucifer’s fingers rested above hers to fill in where she may have missed a note and worked the pedals. He sung twisted lyrics that clashed with the sweet piano sounds. Then Trixie faltered and the sound fizzled out. Lucifer stopped singing and glanced over Trixie. 

“No you were right, Beatrice, that was a B flat however,” he soothed and pointed to a black splotch on the paper, “This is an eighth rest. You pause for an eighth note, like this.” Chloe watched in amazement as Lucifer flawlessly played out the line Trixie struggled with. He hummed the lyrics to help her visualize where they fell in the song and then offered for her to try. Trixie slowly played a more hesitant version of Lucifer’s previous line. 

Chloe couldn’t help but smile. For someone who claimed he didn’t like kids, Lucifer tolerated Trixie better than she sometimes did. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. The room used to be a spare bedroom until her dad died. Then one day out of the blue her mother told her she was going to learn piano and converted the room. Her mom didn’t get far and stopped soon after she started. Chloe thought she just wanted something to take her mind off of her father’s death. Thinking back to when she punched that camera, God knows she didn’t cope well. She still remembered the day the piano was delivered to the house. Chloe had walked outside to get the paper and stumbled right into the used piano. 

Despite herself, Chloe was glad after all these years someone was finally filling it. She observed the pair for a few minutes more before clearing her throat. Lucifer’s head whipped around to face her, his smirk broadening at the sight of her. Trixie clambered to peer around him 

“Mommy Lucifer’s teaching me the piano!” she squealed. 

Chloe cast her gaze at the man. “I can see that,” she laughed in amazement. “Did you two stay out of trouble?” 

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed accusingly, “Do you doubt me Detective?” he questioned cheekily. 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Wholeheartedly.” she retorted. 

“Do you want to hear me play, Mom?” Trixie hounded. She was grinning ear to ear from her place on the bench. Chloe had no idea how Lucifer had kept her so enticed by teaching her an instrument. 

“Of course I do, sweetie. What did you learn?” she said sweetly. Trixie glanced up at Lucifer and back to Chloe. 

“Scarborough…” she started and Lucifer nodded for her to continue, “Fair.” 

Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” That was a depressing song for a seven year old to learn. Trixie nodded and turned her attention back to the keys. “Lucifer’s been helping me with it,” she drew on before starting her first note. 

Slowly Trixie coaxed the familiar melody out of the black and white keys. It was choppy compared to Lucifer’s rendition but it was still recognizable. She paused in some places but quickly picked up once again until she came to a stop to the spot they were practicing when Chloe came in. As the last note echoed through the room Trixie turned back to Chloe. She was laughing with delight and Chloe couldn’t help but grin a little wider. 

“That was great, Trix!” she cooed. “What else did you guys do?” 

“Lucifer made me tea and gave me cake!” Trixie continued. She leapt off of his lap and trotted over to Chloe. She motioned for her to kneel down. 

“He called you a caveman because you didn’t have any cream,” she stage whispered. Chloe put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and scrunched her nose at Lucifer. He made a face back at her. She took a peek Trixie to make sure she wasn’t looking before she flipped him off for good measure. 

Trixie continued talking, “And tea is gross,” she turned to Lucifer and shrugged, “Sorry.” 

Chloe heard Lucifer mutter something like “bloody heathen and your boring teas” and she shot him a sharp look. He glared back at her, fully aware she heard him. 

“You wouldn’t know quality if it bumped you on the head!” he hissed from his spot at the piano. 

Trixie glanced back and forth between them, giggling. That kid knew too much for her own good, Chloe thought. 

“Hey Mommy?” Trixie’s voice snapped her out of her glaring match with Lucifer. 

“Yeah Trix?” Chloe asked, lowering to her level. 

“Can I...have some cake?” 

Chloe sighed. She was beyond the point of caring at this point. “Sure.” 

Trixie dashed out of the room to go claim her prize before Chloe changed her mind. 

Chloe knew she should follow her in case she got into some last minute trouble but she stayed behind watching Lucifer clean up. 

He caught her eye and smirked. She watched as he carefully shut the lid and straightened the sheet music back to its former glory. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Lucifer whirled around on the bench to face her. 

“This was a one time thing, Detective.” he finished and stood, fingering a button on his jacket. 

A month later, it was more than a one time thing.

**Author's Note:**

> So I got my writing groove back! Also a big shout out to my friend on Tumblr, cleancutwelldoitlikedisney who demanded I write this prompt. Also if one of you lovely people could show me how italics work on this thing without getting a huge jumble, that would be great. Actually, go read this on Tumblr because there's italics there. My url is lux-i-fer. And as always, comment and show your starving writer some love!


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